


Calling Me Back To My Home

by lisachan



Series: City of Hidden Houses [12]
Category: The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pseudo-Incest, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 04:55:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20147980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan
Summary: Jace comes back visiting to the New York Institute, and Alec takes the chance to inform him on what Maryse said about his child. Now Jace has to face the consequences of his sadness and his way of dealing with it, and finally take a decision about where he belongs.





	Calling Me Back To My Home

**Author's Note:**

> Every now and then something miraculous happens and we update this series. Hope you enjoy!

It saddens Jace that the longer time he spends away from the Institute, the less he feels like he belongs there. He knows it’s just self-preservation speaking, that being away from something you love and feel intimately yours translates into a sort of subtle, continuous, numb pain the body’s not equipped to withstand for long, and that the only solution a healthy organism has to face that kind of pain is to emotionally distance from it – so he knows that’s what’s happening between himself and the Institute, that he hasn’t truly come to care less for it, that he’s simply detaching so that he doesn’t have to pass through yet another amount of pain he cannot sustain right now, but still. It is sad.

It is sad having to acknowledge that he’s starting not to recognize all the tiny nooks and crannies of this place. That should all the lights go out at the same time, without a stele to mark himself with Vision with, he would keep knocking against every wall and probably fall out of a window at some point. That he wouldn’t be able to recreate the path from his room to Clary’s, a path so loved, so filled with anticipation and expectation he could still trace it by heart, with his eyes closed, for years after they stopped sleeping in separate rooms.

Every time he comes here he seems to find new details about this place, things previously unseen that he can’t recognize because they weren’t here last time he visited and he wasn’t here to witness them as they got carved or drawn and hung to the wall. New sketches Tommy drew with crayons held on top of the refrigerator door by silly-shaped magnets. New furniture to replace the pieces Tommy knocked down and scratched fooling around the hallways, new wallpaper to replace the old one, devoured by moist and moss. Alec’s new picture in his studio, depicting him in full gear, standing tall on a cliff, bow and arrow in hand, the wind ruffling up his dark hair – a painting no doubt commissioned by Magnus to who knows who. Just a year ago, Magnus would’ve asked Clary to paint a similar painting. Clary and no one else.

And now she’s gone, and with her her perfume, her aura filling these hallways and every single room of the Institute, and the residual trace of her energy which, for some time after her death, Jace could absorb from these old walls, and that’s not here anymore, now, transferred on Sebastian’s fingertips the moment he killed his wife’s killer.

He stops where he stands, closes his eyes and lets himself be filled by this thought, invaded by this moment. He lives his daily life in a bottle where realizations like this aren’t common. He doesn’t think about Clary not being here. He doesn’t think about missing her, he doesn’t think about – much of anything, honestly.

Whenever he’s back here, he remembers. His mind awakens and with it the pain connected to this situation, and everything hurts, everything stings, and he can’t take it, and that’s why he doesn’t come back often, that’s why he’s losing touch with his home.

Then he hears someone chuckling. He knows it’s Tommy – his voice still sounds like chimes because of how young he is. Laughter loses that kind of sound as you grow up. It turns rougher, earthlier, somehow. Kids laugh like bells ringing and he loves that sound because it’s angelic in nature and it helps him reconnect with his blood.

He follows it like a trail of light down a dark tunnel. He emerges on the other side of it and he’s in the kitchen, and Tommy’s sitting on a high chair, devouring rainbow colored rice crispy drowned in two gallons of chocolate milk. Alec isn’t here but Magnus is, sitting next to him, smiling with obvious amusement as the kid comments on something they surely did recently and he still hasn’t gotten over from. 

Magnus is the first to notice him. He raises his eyes and focuses on him and for a split second his expression says: _Wow_, you look awful, but he regains control over his facial features quite quickly, and smiles indulgently at him. “Look who’s here, Thomas,” he says gently, leaning in closer to the child.

Tommy swallows hard because he already knows what that sentence means, and when he turns around he’s got a pink rice crispy stuck to his cheek, milk traces all around his lips, and a huge smile that makes him the most beautiful creature on Earth, Heaven and Hell, and Jace smiles back at him and opens his arms just in time for his son to fly in between them.

“Daddy!” Tommy squeals excitedly, “Daddy, daddy, daddy!”

“How are you, squirrel?” Jace smiles as he presses his face against Thomas’ wild red mane. He smells good, his little one. Clean and sweet, like cake. He sits down on an empty chair, balancing the kid on his lap, trying to keep him from falling off, which proves to be a little harder than expected, because Tommy is _strong_ and he doesn’t seem able to control himself.

“I’m fine!” the kid answers happily, “Uncle Alec didn’t wanna allow me to do a thing, but I convinced him.”

“No doubt it was something dangerous,” Jace chuckles, turning to look at Magnus for confirmation, though the warlock just shakes his head and rolls his eyes, “And how did you convince him?”

“I asked,” Tommy nods, “But uncle Alec didn’t wanna hear about it. And so I asked and I asked,” Tommy adds, bouncing happily on his father’s lap, so glad to see him he’s scarcely in control of his own body’s emotional reactions, “And I asked and I asked until uncle Alec got very very tired and gave me permission.”

Jace chuckles, ruffling his hair and then leaning in to kiss him on his cheek, unable to resist its roundness. “You shouldn’t stress uncle Alec out like that, Tommy,” he says patiently, “He’s got too much to take care of and he’s already tired.”

“Interesting you should say that,” Magnus comments with a smile that makes it impossible for Jace to truly get angry at him for what he’s about to say, despite it being a polite though direct accusation, “You know what would help Alec with the many many things he’s got to take care of here, actively making him much less stressed out? Having his parabatai by his side to help him.”

Jace chuckles again, weakly, turning to look at him. “Please, don’t.”

“Oh, but how can I not,” Magnus says theatrically, waving his hand in mid-air, “It is much too fun to try and make you feel guilty for never being here. Guilty Jace is a kind of Jace I’m not yet used to, I want to play with him.”

“You are truly horrible.”

“I’m a warlock, my dear.”

“Both of you make no sense,” Tommy says, confusedly batting his long, dark red eyelashes, “Uncle Alec is strong. He can bear me.”

“Oh, but squirrel,” Jace grins, “Uncle Alec can be as strong as he wants, but _no one_ can bear you.”

Tommy pouts, incredibly offended by his father’s words. “Dad, you’re mean,” he says.

Jace laughs, lightly and freely and naturally as he doesn’t remember himself doing for a while, and then wraps his arms around his son’s small shoulders to hug him. “You’re right, little one, I’m sorry. So, you asked and you asked and you received permission to finally do what?”

“To go to uncle Magnus,” Tommy answers, his usual smile finding its way back to his radiant face, already forgetful of any kind of offense Jace might have caused him, “And ask him to make me fly!”

Jace instantly turns to look at Magnus, who, once again, rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “What can I say, I’m soft-hearted.”

Jace laughs once more, turning back to his son. “You flew, squirrel?”

“Yes! I flu!”

“Flew, love. _Flew_. Flu’s when you get sick,” Magnus comments, sighing.

“I never get sick,” Tommy replies, blinking.

“Yes, Thomas, go on, throw the perfection of you angel blood in our face, dear, do tell us more.”

Tommy blinks again and ultimately offers his final statement: “You’re weird, uncle Magnus. I love you, but you’re weird.”

Jace laughs openly one last time, squeezing Thomas in his arms. “Don’t be rude, squirrel, come on. Did you like flying?”

“I loved it!” Tommy says, throwing both arms up in the air, “Except for the last part,” he adds pensively.

“What happened in the last part?” Jace asks.

“I puked,” Tommy answers, shrugging nonchalantly one seconds before throwing himself off his father’s lap, “I drew a painting of it! I wanna show you!”

“A painting of you throwing up, love?”

“Of me _flying_, dad! Your head is thick,” Tommy comments, before running out of the kitchen and, presumably, to his room upstairs, to get his sensational work of art.

“And on that note...” Magnus comments with an amused chuckle.

Jace chuckles too, resting his shoulders against the back of the chair. “Seems like he still knows me pretty well, despite everything.”

“It would certainly be better if you could spend more time with him, though, Jace,” Magnus sighs patiently, “He constantly asks where you are, when you’re not here, and, frankly, we’ve consumed all plausible answers. We’re traveling the lands of the odd, now. I swear last week Alec told him you weren’t here because you were being chased by the king of the ducks. So that’s something your son will always remember about you.”

“What scares me the most is how plausible that sounds to my ears.”

“It scares me too,” Magnus nods, “But it’s not what scares me the most. What scares me the most is that your son misses you and you don’t seem to care enough about it.”

“I care,” Jace frowns.

“I didn’t say you don’t,” Magnus offers with a short shrug, “I just said you don’t care _enough_. Enough to set aside your pain and _be here_, at least.”

“Magnus, please,” Jace stands up, passing a hand through his hair to comb them backwards. They’re getting longer and a voice in the back of his head, tragically similar to Alec’s, keeps telling him he should have them trimmed, but he decided long ago to just ignore as much as possible all voices in his head resembling Alec’s voice too much, as he believes them all to be his conscience talking, and he doesn’t want to have anything to do with his conscience, for the moment. “If I had wanted to be lectured about how much time I spend away from here and how much of a neglecting father I am, I would’ve come when Alec was here.”

“Instead,” Alec’s voice surprises him from just outside the kitchen, “You came here precisely when you knew I wouldn’t be present. Is that what we’re doing now, Jace? You coming here when I’m not so you can avoid me better?”

Jace tenses right away, a shiver running up his spine and digging in his nape like a poisonous thorn.

Alec’s here.

He turns slowly, swallowing as he moves. Alec stares at him from the door frame, frowning sternly, his arms crossed confrontationally on his chest. He’s angry at him, about him avoiding him probably even more than about him simply avoiding this place, his son and the grief they both carry with what they represent for him.

“Alec,” he says. His voice sounds strident and unpleasant and he’s glad Thomas isn’t here to hear it. “When did you come back?”

“Does it matter?” Alec finally marches into the kitchen, passing by the table to grab an apple, that he starts biting aggressively as he leans against the counter top, a few feet from Magnus. “I heard what I had to hear.”

“Alexander,” Magnus tries with a soft smile, “Instead of fighting, why don’t we take this extraordinary opportunity life gave us, and use the time Jace has chosen to spend with us to talk about a few very important things? Mind me, I said _talk_, and _instead of fighting_, those are the keywords.”

“Why should I want to talk instead of fighting?” Alec asks, glaring at Jace, “Beating him to a pulp would be so much more satisfying.”

Magnus sighs, rolling his eyes. “I can’t argue with that. Another thing it would also be, though, is useless.”

“I am here, you know?” Jace frowns, crossing his arms on his chest, “No need to speak about what would be satisfying or useful to do with me, you can just ask me what I wanna do.”

“That’s nice of you to say, because that’s _exactly_ what I’ve been dying to ask you since you left!” Alec puts the half-eaten apple down on the kitchen counter and marches straight on towards him, ready to start a war, “What _is it_ that you wanna do, Jace? What is it that you’re _trying_ to do and won’t manage to achieve in the end? Because I hope you know that’s the path you’re walking, right now. Whatever it is you’re running forward, it will turn into a wall and break your face the moment you reach it.”

“Wow,” Jace frowns even deeper, standing his ground, “You sure have many opinions about something you know jack shit about.”

“And who’s at fault for that? You tell me nothing! You explain me nothing!”

“I told you as much as I could tell you and we’re still here talking about the same old things!” Jace groans and starts pacing the room nervously, “By the Angel, how thick can you be? You’ve seen me with Sebastian, didn’t you? Do you have eyes?”

Alec blushes – it’s sudden, apparently completely out of context, and yet a part of Jace, a hidden part, buried in the underground of his soul, knows exactly why, and also knows he said the words exactly to achieve that kind of result. “I’m not interested in your sexual orientation confusion, Jace,” Alec says, his voice trembling with rage.

“I’m not confused.”

“I prefer to think you are, instead of having to confront the fact that you might be attracted to a genocidal psychopath.”

“He is so much more than that, especially now, especially to me, and you know that.”

“Pardon me, kids,” Magnus interrupts their fighting with a firm, low, somehow pretty soothing voice. An unexpected tone, coming from him. Magnetic, to say the least. “I do understand how it happens that, the moment his name gets thrown into a room, Sebastian immediately becomes the center of every single damn argument happening inside it, but right now it’s not the time to speak about him. And frankly-- I’ve had enough about this quarreling. Alec, we all know you’re jealous. We all know you can’t wrap your head around the fact that someone you fancied and always thought was straight suddenly expresses interest towards boys, and ones you hate, to boot. We got that, but it’s not the most important thing we should be debating right now. And Jace,” he turns to look at him too, freezing Jace’s smartass smirk on his face before it can turn into a full smile, “We all got you’re head over heels for Sebastian Morgenstern, we all got he’s the only one who can understand and help you right now, we all got you’re eating from the palm of his hand and breathing from the back of his throat--”

“By the Angel, Magnus,” Alec makes a face and looks away, but that doesn’t stop his husband.

“But frankly, I personally do not give a shit about who you sleep with, and neither does your son, nor the majority of the rest of the world, so please, give us a break. God!” he exhales, throwing his arms up in the air, “I feel like we’ve been running in circles for centuries, guys. Clary’s dead, this had consequences, Sebastian’s a free man, Jace has fallen for him, that’s _done_ and _over_, can we move forward with the next episode, please? I’m getting sick of the fillers.”

There’s an eerie silence following his monologue, and in that silence Jace swallows. He thinks to himself – is that the impression I give? Of being a person who constantly needs to repeat the others how he feels and what he’s doing and why? And if that’s the case, why in the Angel’s name can’t Alec understand something that’s as blatantly obvious for Magnus?

“Dad!” Tommy finally comes back, but his running comes to a sudden stop when he walks into the kitchen and feels the air getting denser every step of the way. He lowers the hand clutching at the crumpled piece of paper upon which he drew himself flying, sustained by the blue bolt of Magnus’ magic, and moves his gaze from his father to his uncles, confusion clear in his golden eyes. “… did you fight again?”

“No, sweetness,” Magnus rushes to Tommy’s side, lifting him up between his arms, “Everything’s alright, we were just discussing a few things. Nothing to worry about.”

Jace looks up at his son’s face and detects a little bit of anxiety in his expression, and just as he bites his inner cheek, guilt eating him from the inside, something unlocks in Alec’s mind. Jace almost feels it underneath his skin, the switch. A door that was closed is slammed wide open and Alec speaks with the thinnest voice, addressing his words directly at him, despite the fact that everyone in the room can hear him.

“I saw my mother,” he says, “In Idris. She said I’ve got too much on my plate now, and I can’t take care of Thomas too. She says you’re not here to support me, that you’re spending time with Sebastian and you abandoned your child and I can’t handle everything, but what she truly means is she doesn’t want Tommy alone with Magnus and she told me she wants him in Idris, living with her. I told her to back off but she told me this wasn’t over, and she will come, Jace. She’ll come and maybe it’s not gonna be now, or in a week, but in a month, two, six, she’ll come and she’ll take Tommy away and you’ll know just because I’ll tell you, because you won’t be here to stop it.”

There’s another silence after Alec’s words, and Jace takes the chance he’s been offered to observe his parabatai and truly think about him. A person like the Alec he knew would have never, _never_ said any of these things in front of his child.

Unless he was about to break.

“...Alec--” he starts off, but he can’t finish the sentence, because Tommy bursts into crying. A cry so sudden and desperate it’s almost earth-shattering, and the moment he hears it Jace feels himself switch into a different state of mind. He turns towards his son, starts gravitating around him. “Squirrel, no, don’t cry! There’s no need to.”

“But I don’t wanna leave here!” Thomas cries louder, his tiny fists rubbing the river of tears away from his eyes and chubby cheeks, “I wanna stay!”

“Of course, baby, of course!” Magnus adds, squeezing him affectionately, “You’re not going anywhere, I promise! You’re staying right where you are, with uncle Alec and me.”

“And daddy!”

“And daddy, sure!” Jace wipes a few tears away from his son’s face, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Tommy sobs and his crying seems to subside. He sniffles a few times and then hides his face against Magnus’ neck, a few more hiccups escaping his trembling lips.

Jace slowly turns to look at Alec and finds him already staring down at the tiled floor. He walks closer to him and sighs deeply. “Alec,” he calls him. Alec moves away, as though recoiling from his touch – even though Jace isn’t touching him yet.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “But I had to tell you. I’m sorry I made Tommy cry. I needed you to know.”

“I know,” Jace swallows and decides to try and touch him anyway. He raises a hand and places it on his parabatai’s shoulder, squeezing it a little. This time, Alec doesn’t move away, and something inside Jace awakens, something like a golden thread, something dormant that comes back alive, glistens in the shadows and slowly slithers away, extending itself towards the identical thread buried deep inside Alec’s very core. “I know. It’s okay. Thank you for telling me. You shouldn’t...” he bites at his bottom lip and swallows, “You shouldn’t be dealing with all this by yourself.”

“So will you stay?” Alec looks up at him and Jace can see how troubled he is, how lost, how hopeless he feels. He knows these are feelings Alec would never show to anyone else. It’s the most intimate, fragile part of himself, and it’s hidden behind an iron gate with Jace’s name on the front. A gate that opens with the touch of his fingers and that only he has the key to lock down afterwards. 

He swallows uneasily, interrupting the contact between them and looking down. “I… I can’t stay,” he answers honestly, “Not right now. But I’ll think about this. I swear.”

Alec composes himself, but a trace of his sadness remains visible on the strong facade he hastens to put on the moment they’re not touching anymore. That’s because Jace moved away without locking the gate first.

“Don’t take too long,” his parabatai simply says, “You’re already coming back to a different house every time you come visit. The next one could be a difference as unbearable as Clary’s loss.”

*

When Sebastian hears the door close, he waits for a few seconds in silence, expecting Jace to start screaming his name and warning him he’s back as he usually does, as loud as possible.

He waits and waits, but he only hears silence, and that’s suspicious. Whenever Jace is silent it’s because he doesn’t feel alright. Sebastian has come to dread these moments because they tend to be emotionally draining. He scarcely has enough strength to sustain his own uncertainty, sometimes his brother’s truly too much to bear in addition to that.

So he decides to push the confrontation as far in the future as he possibly can, and keeps whipping the mixture in the bowl until he hears the steps coming closer and finally stop on the threshold of the kitchen. Only then he turns around and focuses on his brother’s figure, standing on the doorstep, watching him intently.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” Jace echoes, his eyes moving on him, studying him top to bottom, “Are you making pancakes?”

“Blueberry pancakes,” Sebastian answers, tilting the bowl to show Jace its content.

Jace looks at it for almost a full minute. “What is with you and fruit, seriously?”

Sebastian shrugs. He himself has no idea. Eating fruit satisfies him. Fruit is sugary, pulpy, juicy, ultimately very tasty, and he enjoys cutting it in squares and eating it from a bowl. “Fruit’s good for me,” he simply says, “It’d be good for you too, if you ate.”

“I eat.”

“Come doesn’t count.”

“Ew-- By the Angel, Sebastian, please.”

Sebastian smirks, amused by his brother’s sudden purity of thoughts. There has been literally no limit to what they’ve been doing in and out of the bedroom since he moved in, but the moment he dares to speak about something sexual outside of a strictly sexual context, there he is, blushing like a schoolgirl. “I thought you were a loverboy. These things shouldn’t embarrass you.”

“Shut up,” Jace sighs and finally enters the kitchen. He’d usually walk straight to Sebastian – they’d kiss, perhaps do more. That’s the standard, when they haven’t been close for hours.

Something’s different, today, though.

“What?” Sebastian asks, frowning lightly, “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. I don’t have time for lies, brother.”

“You literally have nothing to do all day. Nothing. You’re making pancakes and it’s 7 PM. Don’t tell me you don’t have time.”

“I don’t, for lies,” he insists, but he can see Jace is not about to be moved by scolding, not tonight. He decides he’s going to try the recipe Magnus gave him some other day, then, and puts down the bowl and the whisk to go sit next to his brother at the table. “Come on, tell me what happened. You know I don’t like to insist.”

“The list of the things you like is so short sometimes I doubt it even exists.”

“As a matter of fact, it doesn’t. It’s more like five bullet points, period. Fruit, sparring, beer with Magnus, running, you.”

“Half of this is food, the other half sports.”

“And then the third half is you, my brother. But I’m losing my patience and if you keep testing me in a few minutes perhaps I’ll forget I ever wanted to know what’s going on in your head.” Jace looks away and Sebastian sighs, raises a hand and places it on top of Jace’s head, making it swing a little. “Come on. Spit it out.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Okay,” Sebastian stands up, “Then we’ll do something from my list, at least then I won’t feel like I’ve been wasting few minutes of my precious time.”

Jace frowns, following him as he moves around the kitchen, first, and then following him outside the room as he walks out of it. “Where are you going?”

“To the front door.”

“Are you leaving?”

“We both did, approximately thirty seconds ago.”

“What?”

Sebastian smirks and opens the door for him. Outside, Paris, and the Bois de Boulogne. “Wanna go out for a jog?”

Jace blinks rapidly a couple of times, protecting his eyes from the still-strong light of the setting sun. It colors the trees dark green and red, and the surface of the lake seems to have magically turned into lava. “...not particularly, no,” Jace sighs, “But I’ve got a feeling you won’t let me stay inside, even if I ask.”

Sebastian holds his hand out and Jace grabs it, clinging to it for dear life. He follows him outside and the weather is nice and the temperature pleasant, and Sebastian wonders why would his brother want to lock himself in the apartment where he could be here, instead. Something really awful must’ve happened.

He brings Jace closer, their lips touch and for a second Sebastian gets lost in it – in how much he likes his brother’s taste. Every day Jace leaves the apartment for a few hours, though it doesn’t happen often – or probably because of that –, Sebastian welcomes the following hours of solitude and bliss with gratitude, but every single time, when his brother comes back, Sebastian realizes he missed him, and how much. It’s something that never ceases to amaze him, and it’s a feeling that doesn’t fade out with time. Every time like the first time, when he realizes Jace hasn’t been there for hours he feels like he were having an old wound ripped open, and every time like the first time, when Jace comes back, the wound is stitched together. It’s one of those mixed-pain-and-pleasure things one could get addicted to.

“Let’s run,” he says, breathing against Jace’s lips.

This time, instead of protesting, Jace simply nods.

The park is filled with runners, and they blend in easily. No one notices them, no one even takes a second look at them. It’s a nice early evening and the sky is mostly clear, only spotted with the occasional orange-tinted cloud, there are runners everywhere, jogging alone, in couples or small groups, and they differ in nothing compared with them. They run through the park and the air smells nice, and it’s a little warm but not unbearably so, and as soon as there’s more sun hidden underneath the horizon than there is peekabooing over its line a gentle breeze starts blowing, ruffling the leaves hanging on the branches of the trees, making them rustle.

Jace is out of shape and struggles to keep up, so every now and then Sebastian slows down and waits for him to catch up. Then, when he’s close enough, he runs faster again, just to keep giving him a goal, something to run after in the distance, something to catch. 

The route is pretty long and, as soon as they reach the Lac Inférieur and start heading for the Lac Supérieur, slightly uphill, and by the time they get there the sky has turned from red to purple and it’s blueing up at the edges, and they’re both spent. Well, Sebastian could run a few more minutes, honestly, but Jace clearly can’t keep up any longer, and there’d be no point in doing this if he ended up leaving him behind, so he finds a nice spot, a gentle slope for them to rest for a while, and he sits down, leaning back on his elbows, throwing his head back as he catches his breath.

Jace collapses next to him, flattened on his back on the green grass randomly spotted with tiny white flowers. He’s heaving and his chest moves up and down fast with every heavy breath he takes. He covers his face with his forearm and just lies down there, perfectly still, his lips slightly parted, his blonde hair ruffled up and spread on the grass like a golden waterfall.

He looks handsome in such a pure way. There is dirtiness in his brother, Sebastian knows that, there’s mischief in the way his golden eyes glisten every now and then, but he looks nothing short of an angel and the idea of touching him, tainting him, is at the same time repulsive and enticing. Sebastian holds out his hand and touches his chest through his t-shirt, then moves up, following the tense line of his throat. He imagines himself closing his fingers around his neck, squeeze. He can almost hear Jace gasp. But his hand doesn’t stop, his fingers trace the outline of his jaw, then the curves of his lips.

He feels drawn towards him the same way he’s always felt drawn towards forbidden things, things he wasn’t supposed to have. There’s a rope at the very center of his stomach the other hand of which is tied around Jace’s wrist. Every time he pulls, Sebastian’s entrails get twisted in excitement and he has to come closer.

He leans in and kisses him, and Jace removes his arm from between them to lean into the kiss, answering it with passionate abandonment.

When the kiss does out, Sebastian remains there, looming over him, staring at him.

“You’re surprisingly kissy, today,” Jace comments, slowly batting his eyelids, as though he was trying to make him out in the shadows.

“I’m probably overcompensating for the fact that you’re unusually not.”

Jace chuckles, stretching out on the ground. “You’re worried about me,” he says, “It shows.”

“Do I have reasons to?” Sebastian raises an eyebrow.

Jace doesn’t answer right away, but ultimately nods. “I’m on the verge of something I know I’ve gotta do but I’m too terrified of doing.”

“You wanna tell me what it is, or do I have to take you through every jogging route the apartment can possibly reach?”

Jace laughs, shaking his head. “No need, also ‘cause, honestly, I can’t run a single mile more. I’m terribly out of shape.”

“We’ll fix that later.”

“For sure,” Jace grins, but then sighs and his expression turns a little more serious. “It’s about Alec’s mother.”

For the second time, Sebastian raises an eyebrow. His brother keeps saying unpredictable things, today. “That was not what I expected.”

“Right? Neither did I when I went visiting Thomas earlier today. But that’s what I got anyway. Alec was there and told me his mother thinks I’m unfit to be a parent because I’m never there.”

“Something neither of us can disagree with, honestly.”

“Shut up, be supportive.”

“I’m being as supportive as I can without having to lie.”

“Then lie,” Jace frowns, but then he chuckles and shakes his head. “I know she’s right. I should be there more. I’m causing troubles to everyone. Magnus is worried, Alec is overwhelmed, Tommy misses me--”

“And you’re infesting my apartment.”

“Right,” Jace chuckles again, “It’s just that being there is painful, Sebastian. Horribly so. Every time I’m there, every minute I spend between those walls I’m more acutely aware of Clary’s absence, and I don’t know how to deal with it, that’s all. Everything reminds me she’s not there and since I can’t fix that I don’t know how to face it.”

Sebastian nods, moving a little closer to him. “You know… I actually wish I could tell you I have some secret trick to teach you how to do that faster. Without having to confront the pain. But I’m confronting it every day in my head and I’m still very far from being able to say I’m over it.” He sighs, shaking his head. “What did the woman say?”

“That she’s going to take Tommy away.” Jace says it out loud and Sebastian can see something change at the bottom of his eyes. It’s as though he only became truly aware of the real meaning of this sentence when he uttered it. “I don’t want her to. He’s my son and he should live in my home. And my home is not in Idris. It’s in New York. It’s the New York Institute. But I--” he holds his breath for a second, “I’m not sure I’m ready to go back there.”

Sebastian nods again, and then lies down on the grass next to him. They stare at the same sky, watch the same weightless, indefinite clouds pass through it, count the same stars as they start twinkling brighter the darker the background grows. Then Sebastian whispers. “I’ve got no solution for you, brother. The only thing I can tell you is I’ll be by your side whatever you choose to do. Whatever consequence your choices have, we’ll deal with it together. That’s a promise.”

Jace turns to look at him and they lock eyes. For a few minutes, nothing is told, and everything is said. Then Jace nods and leans in, brushing his lips against Sebastian’s as if to seal that promise. “Okay,” he says, “Then come meet him.”

Sebastian almost paralyzes. Surely, all the fibers in his body tense, and he breathes deeper once, and then twice, before swallowing. “I’m not sure about it.”

“Why?”

“Are we being completely honest?”

“Completely.”

“I’m scared.”

It’s Jace’s time to swallow. He turns on his side to better face him, and holds out one of his hands to stroke his cheekbone. “Of what?”

“Of what I could do. What I could turn into.” Sebastian sighs, closing his eyes. He knew this moment, at some point, would’ve arrived. That it would come a time he’d have to unload some of the heaviness upon Jace’s shoulders, that he’d have to burden his brother with it. He just hopes enough time has passed and he can withstand it. “You’ve seen me with loved ones. You’ve seen what I can do with them, for them… to them. If I come to feel for this child as intensely as I’ve felt for Clary, I’ll--”

“Be the best uncle my son could possibly hope to have?”

Sebastian bursts into laughing, shaking his head. “Idiot,” he says, “You know the things I can do. I’d kill for this kid. I’d destroy worlds for him. Shit, if he was powerful enough I’d have him by my side as I shatter the sky,” he sighs, “That does not qualify me as best uncle ever.”

“Earns you a mug, for sure,” Jace chuckles, “I’m such a good uncle I’d break the sky for my nephew. No, but seriously,” he moves a little closer, “I know what you mean, but we’re past that, and I mean it. You can be rough and you can be an asshole, but Seb, you’re not a psycho any longer, you have to accept that. Whatever happened inside you, whatever Clary did… I know you believe you’re still the same man you were before, and maybe that’s true, but sometimes people become different even though they’ve not changed, you know what I mean?”

And yes, Sebastian knows. He never expected his brother to be the one who’d be able to put his transformation into words, if anything he expected him to be the one who could never truly understand it, but he was wrong. Jace gets it. Sebastian doesn’t know how, but he does. He doesn’t feel changed, but he sure is different. Whatever that means, Sebastian knows it’s true to himself.

So he nods. “I know.”

“Then come with me. Tonight. Come with me to the Institute. I want you to meet him.”

“No, wait.” Sebastian shakes his head and breathes in and out. “Okay. I’ll come. I’ll see him. But I don’t wanna meet him, not yet. Give me a few days. I’ll just watch him for a while, he won’t notice me. And then I’ll meet him. When I’m ready.”

He expects Jace to protest, but surprisingly it doesn’t happen. His brother nods, and holds his hand. And a few minutes later they’re strolling down avenue de Saint-Cloud, back to the apartment.

*

Thomas is sleeping, and Sebastian can’t stop looking at him. Jace whispers in his ear that he’s lucky he hasn’t woken up, the kid’s got the lightest sleep ever. It’s rare to see him like this, he says. Sebastian nods but his brain isn’t forming thoughts. All his senses disappeared, he’s stuck on sight. His eyes are the only things that work.

The child’s got dark red hair and freckles all over his nose. He’s pale and he’s still small, but he’s got straight, squared shoulders and strong arms, and his legs, though short, are muscular and toned. “Does he jump high?” he asks under his breath.

Jace chuckles, covering his mouth not to disturb his son’s sleep. “The highest,” he answers, “He’s trouble, I’m telling you. He could use someone to train him more sternly than I could ever do.”

“I’m not fit for the role, brother,” Sebastian lets out a short laughter, “I’m not a teacher at heart. Also, can you even imagine what the Council would say if I ended up training kids at the Institute? They’d accuse me of wanting to create a personal army, and Lightwood of allowing it for his parabatai’s sake. We’d never hear the end of it. Nope, not gonna happen.”

“We’ll see,” Jace smiles a knowing smile and Sebastian momentarily dwells on the thought that, instead of giving him a warning, he might’ve just given him an idea no doubt someone as reckless as him would want to pursue. Then Thomas shifts in his sleep and all thoughts drip out of his mind once again.

He smiles, reaching out to touch the kid’s hair. “They’re soft.”

“Like Clary’s.”

Sebastian tenses, and then wraps one of Tommy’s wavy locks around his own index finger. “Does he have her eyes?”

“Nope. Mine.”

“He got the best from both of you, then.”

“All the more reason for you to train him, so he can get the best from you too,” Jace grins.

Sebastian presses a hand against his face and pushes him away, chuckling. “Alright, enough,” he says, disentangling Tommy’s hair from his fingers and stepping away from his bed, “I’ve seen him. Now I need a breather. I’ll go back to the apartment.”

“No you won’t,” Jace shakes his head and holds his hand, tugging at it to lead him out the room. “Sleep here, tonight. I wanna be here in the morning when Tommy wakes up, but I also wanna be with you tonight. So, you see, you’ve got no other choice.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes and sighs, but follows him nonetheless. He’s pretty sure he _would_ have a choice, if he wanted. But he doesn’t.

*

When he wakes up, the morning after, Jace is not there anymore. He left him a note, stereotypically enough. “Out having fun with Tommy. Took the apartment. See you later,” the note says. That’s all Sebastian needs to know.

He decides he spent enough time in a place he doesn’t even particularly like, and sets out to search for Magnus to ask him for a portal anywhere else but here, but when he finds him the warlock has a toothbrush up his mouth and is wearing a bright flamingo pink pajamas, and doesn’t seem particularly inclined to portal him away.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asks, bemusedly.

Sebastian shrugs. “Jace wanted me to see Thomas. I ended up staying the night.”

“You _met_ with Tommy?”

“No, I just watched him sleep.”

“Ah,” Magnus seems to calm down, “Way more creepy and in line with your persona, now I recognize you.”

“Fuck you,” Sebastian flips him off, “Can you portal me away?”

“Where to?”

“I don’t know, just away from here.”

“Uh, place of my choice! Exciting.”

“Can’t be the Gard or any other prison.”

“Believe me, blue eyes, had I to put you in chains, it’d be somewhere I could look at you.”

“Perv. So, can you?”

“I can, as I can almost anything else, but I have a strict no-portaling-before-breakfast policy and I’m not about to break it for anyone, not even you, young Morgenstern. So get down to the kitchen, have some food, and I’ll find you after I come back from my morning coffee and sfogliatella in Naples.”

“Naples?” Sebastian raises an eyebrow and then frowns, “But you said no portaling before breakfast, how the hell are you gonna get there without a portal?”

The warlock stares at him silently for a few seconds. Then snaps his fingers and disappears down the consequential portal.

“Oh, fuck you, Magnus!” Sebastian yells, but there’s not much else he can do, so he decides to sigh, resign to his unfair destiny and get down to the kitchen. He scavenges for some fruit and comes up with two bananas, an apple, a pear, some grapes and, surprisingly enough and no doubt Magnus’ fault, a papaya. He cleans and peels everything out and then sets down to do some chopping.

Alec Lightwoods finds him a few minutes later right as he pops a tiny papaya square into his mouth. He stops on the threshold and stares at him as if he was staring at a nightmare come alive overnight, and then swallows.

“What in the Angel’s name are you doing here…?” he asks in a trembling voice.

“I’m waiting for your husband to come back from breakfast so that he can portal me back to Idris,” is his honest answer.

Lightwood slowly pinches the root of his nose, as though he was battling an impending headache. “I don’t even wanna start investigating this sentence.” Then he turns back to him. “I suppose this was Jace’s idea?” Sebastian nods. “An idiot idea, no doubt. Thomas could’ve seen you!”

To this, Sebastian can’t help but smile. “Don’t worry,” he says, “He’s out playing with his father. They won’t be back for hours.”

All the features of Lightwood’s face relax and lighten up altogether, and in such a short time his face almost changes physiognomy from one second to the next. “Oh,” he says, “That’s… nice, I guess.” Then he stops for a second and covers his face with both hands. “What am I even doing, why aren’t I beating you senseless…?”

Sebastian chuckles, and then stands up. “Makes two of us not knowing the answer to that question,” he simply says, before leaving the kitchen.


End file.
